The Lord Is My Shepherd (25 page)

He hit the ground running, and pulled his cell free of his pocket.

“You got something?” Mark asked.

“Guy locked me in the youth room. He should be headed for the main gate.”

“On it.”

Jeremiah turned the corner and saw a man in black pants, jacket, and hat erupt through the gate and sprint into the parking lot. He turned and gave chase, wishing he hadn't spent so much energy that day running already. The muscles in his legs burned, but he pushed himself faster, ignoring the pain.

He heard footsteps behind him and realized they must belong to Mark. Ahead of him the killer vaulted the low wall that circled the parking lot. Jeremiah was a dozen steps behind him. He also jumped the wall and landed in someone's rose bushes.

He ignored the thorns as he plunged ahead. He saw the man disappear around the corner of the house, and a second later he heard a child's high-pitched scream. He slowed for a moment, and Mark caught up with him. Together they rounded the corner and saw a little girl lying crumpled in the path.

Jeremiah hesitated. He was the faster; he should go after the killer. Mark was armed, though and he was also a detective. He made a quick decision. “I'll take care of her, you stay on him.”

Jeremiah stopped, and Mark surged forward. He knelt down next to the little girl and pulled his cell from his pocket. Her scalp was bloody where she had hit her head on the ground, probably when she had been thrown. He gritted his teeth as he called for help.

As he hung up the girl's mother came flying out of the house wearing a shirt and a slip.

“Help is on the way,” Jeremiah said, in a soothing tone. “I've called for an ambulance.”

“Who are you? What happened?”

“My name is Jeremiah. I'm a rabbi. The police are chasing a man, and it looks like he knocked your daughter down when he ran this way. She hit her head.”

The woman collapsed next to her child, sobbing in fear.

“Wait until the paramedics look at her before moving her,” Jeremiah advised.

He stood, itching to continue the chase, but the woman grabbed at him with trembling hands. “Help me, help me, please.”

“I'm not a doctor,” he said.

“Help me pray for her.”

He stood, torn between his need to catch the guy who had hurt so many and this plea from a terrified mother.
You're not a policeman, you're a rabbi
, he told himself sternly. He knelt down, took the mother's hand, and placed his other one on the little girl's arm.

Ten minutes later an ambulance arrived, and a minute after that Mark returned.

“I lost him,” he admitted as he and Jeremiah moved off a little ways, leaving the girl to her mother and the paramedics.

Jeremiah groaned in frustration. “Hopefully, either Cindy or the girl got a good look at him.”

Mark nodded. “Why don't you head back to the church. I'll be back once I've covered things here.”

“Okay,” Jeremiah said.

He considered returning the way he'd came, but ultimately decided he didn't care for another run-in with the rose bushes. He walked the long way around and found himself again at the front of the church. In addition to the ambulance and fire personnel on the scene, police had cordoned off the area to keep back those who gawked in horror at the scene.

A uniformed officer moved to intercept Jeremiah, but Paul waved him through. “Any luck?”

Jeremiah shook his head. “He got away. There's a little girl who might be able to give us a description, though. Mark is with her and her mother now. What about Cindy? Is she okay? Has she said what happened?”

“She's still unconscious. I heard the paramedics say something about broken bones, but other than that, I don't know anything. Looks like they're getting ready to take her to the hospital, though.”

Jeremiah turned and saw them loading Cindy's stretcher into the back of one of the ambulances. He jogged over.

“I want to go with her.”

“We're full up back here. Follow us to County General,” the paramedic said before closing the door and heading for the driver's seat.

Jeremiah gritted his teeth in anger. His car was still at the park. “But I don't have a car.”

“Sorry guy, you need to find another ride.”

How about I kill you and take your ride?
Jeremiah turned, and his eyes fell on Cindy's car where it was half parked on the lawn. The door stood open. He walked over and discovered her purse and cell phone inside, but there was no sign of her keys. She probably had them with her, but it didn't hurt to check and see if she had left them in one of the doors.

He closed the car door and headed back to the main gate of the church. There were no keys in the lock. He didn't remember any keys in the youth room, but he went over to double check. He removed the door stop and swung the door wide, but didn't go in.

He turned and glanced at the other doors he had not tried earlier. One of them stood open, and he guessed it was where the killer had been hiding. He walked over and discovered that it was a janitor's closet. He checked the other side of the door and found her keys dangling from the lock. He removed them, careful not to touch anything else as he did so.

As he turned to leave his eyes fell on the soda machine. Just on the other side of it, hidden in the shadows, were the bodies of two women, dressed and ready to play their part in the crucifixion scene.

He returned to the front of the church and told Paul what he had seen. The detective looked sick. Jeremiah climbed into Cindy's car, started it up, and peeled out for the hospital.

His phone rang, and when he answered he wasn't surprised to hear Mark's voice. “Are you heading to the hospital?”

“Yes, why?” There was something in the detective's voice that Jeremiah didn't like.

“I saw the two women whose bodies you found.”

“Yes, and?”

“And something really bothered me about the setup.”

“What?” Jeremiah asked.

“I double checked with a couple of the pastors here. Traditionally, there are three named women at the crucifixion. Three women. Two bodies. And there were extra clothes for a third.”

Realization hit Jeremiah hard. “He didn't use Cindy because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“He meant for her to be the third woman,” Mark said.

“How soon can you get to the hospital?”

“Not soon enough. You got it?”

“I got it,” Jeremiah growled before hanging up.

He stepped on the gas and blew through a red light. He heard the squeal of tires around him, but he didn't care. If the killer wanted Cindy dead, it would be easy enough to accomplish. Since she might have seen his face, killing her would be that much more of a priority for him.

A minute later Jeremiah drove into the parking lot next to the emergency room, grabbed the first space he saw, and sprinted into the building. He ran up to the admissions nurse. “I'm here with Cindy Preston. She was just brought in by ambulance.”

“Take a seat, sir, and someone will be with you in a moment,” the nurse told him.

“I must be allowed to see her now,” he insisted. “The ambulance driver told me to follow him over. It's very urgent.”

“I'm sorry, sir, you will just have to wait. It won't be too long.”

In a world with a serial killer, he had already been standing there discussing it with this woman for too long. His hand moved toward his phone as he considered having Mark tell her to let him in as part of the ongoing police investigation. “I have to get in there,” he said.

The woman looked at him through narrowed eyes, her temper flaring. “I'm sorry, sir, but unless you're a blood relative, I can't let you in until a doctor clears it.”

“I'm her husband.”

“Can I see some identification?”

He pulled out his driver's license and handed it to her. “Mr. Silverman?” she questioned.

“Newlyweds, just back from our honeymoon. She hasn't gotten her name changed on everything yet.”

The woman continued to stare at him skeptically. He set his jaw and met her eyes squarely. “If you don't believe me, call Detective Mark Walters, Pine Springs Police Department. He was the best man, and he'll verify it. I can give you his number if you'd like.”

She backed down. “Okay.”

She hit a button, and the door next to the counter unlocked. He was through it in a flash. “Follow me,” she said, leading him past several beds until he saw Cindy.

“Thank you.” Relieved, he sank down into a chair positioned next to the head of the bed.

“I hope your wife is okay,” the nurse said, her voice softening.

“Me too.”

After she left Jeremiah studied Cindy's face. They had hooked her up to an impressive array of machines. He prayed for her, specifically that she would wake up soon. The longer she lay unconscious following a blow to the head the worse her chances of survival.

Come on, Cindy. Wake up and tell me what this guy looks like. Tell me where I can find him. I'll rip him apart with my bare hands for you. Just tell me who he is.

In his mind he went over everything that had just happened. The Last Supper, the Garden of Gethsemane, and now the Crucifixion, all within a few hours of each other. The killer had missed a few steps, most notably the trial of
Jesus, and the crowd choosing for Jesus to die. Was he getting it right? He had studied the Christian scriptures once years earlier. He'd also seen that Mel Gibson movie, mostly because he'd wanted to hear the Aramaic.

He touched her hand and then leaned close to whisper. “Come on, Cindy. Wake up and tell me all about the Messiah and how he's already come. Then help me figure out what this mad man is going to do next.”

“Let's take a look,” a doctor said, drawing the privacy curtain partway around. “I'm Doctor Kim.”

“Jeremiah,” he said, shaking the man's hand.

“Tell me what happened to her.”

“She was attacked. The man hit her on the head. I think she also broke her foot.”

The doctor's eyes widened as he looked from Jeremiah to Cindy. His face hardened for a moment. “This
man
wouldn't happen to be you, would it?”

Jeremiah felt his self-control slipping. His voice was soft when he finally spoke. “A serial killer the police are tracking. Detective Mark Walters can vouch for that.”

“I'd heard rumors,” the doctor said, backing down.

“It's okay.”

“Most times we see a young woman in here in this kind of condition it's either a car accident or spousal abuse.”

The doctor examined her briefly. “You're right. Her foot is broken. She'll need a cast.”

“What about the head injury?”

“We took some films. It appears to be a concussion. She should be okay as long as she wakes up in the next few hours. I'll schedule an MRI, just to make sure.”

“Do whatever you have to do,” Jeremiah said.

“Don't worry. She'll get the best care possible.”

“Good. There's also a concern that the guy who did this might be back to finish what he started,” Jeremiah said.

“I'll alert the staff to keep a close watch,” the doctor said. “I'll be back shortly to put a cast on that foot.”

A few minutes later Mark appeared, escorted by the same nurse who had let Jeremiah in. As soon as she had left Mark pulled up a second chair on the other side of the bed.

“
Mazal tov.”

“What?” Jeremiah asked.

“Next time I'm your best man, let me know. I'd like to make a toast or something. You know, maybe attend the wedding.” Mark smirked.

“You're a jerk. Did you know that?” Jeremiah asked.

“Yes, I've been told it's one of my better qualities.”

“Don't believe it.”

“How is she?”

“It's mostly a waiting game at this point,” Jeremiah said. “They'll run some tests, but as long as she wakes up in a few hours she'll probably be fine.”

“I hate this whole mess. I'm so ready to be done with Easter,” Mark said.

“Did I miss anything?”

“The two guys on the other crosses?”

“Yeah?”

“Thieves. Actual thieves. Can you believe it?”

“Anyone concerned that this guy seems to have skipped ahead a bit in the narrative of the story?”

“You noticed that too?” Mark asked. “I don't know what it means.”

“How's Oliver?”

“He'll live. He's pretty messed up, though. I just stopped in to look at him. They have him so doped up he won't be worth anything in the foreseeable future.”

“That's a shame, because there's something I'd like to ask him,” Jeremiah said.

“What's that?”

“What did he do to this guy?”

Mark nodded. “Crazy is crazy, but I'm inclined to agree with you. I think you'd really have to hate a guy's guts to nail him up on a cross and leave him to die.”

“Maybe not a couple of thousand years ago, but this seems very personal. I think things have been leading to this for some time.”

“Makes you wonder what Cindy stumbled into, doesn't it?”

“You staying here for a while?” Jeremiah asked.

“Yeah, you need to get going?”

“I'll be needed at the synagogue as word spreads about the Schullers.”

“Yeah, I would imagine. Go on, I'll watch her.”

Jeremiah looked him over. “No offense, but I think you need to get some sleep instead.”

“Probably a good idea. I have a feeling things will get worse before they get better. I'll have some uniforms come watch her.”

Jeremiah hesitated.

“What is it?” Mark asked, yawning.

“I saw what happened to the last couple of officers you assigned to watch someone.”

The detective grimaced.

J
EREMIAH CONSIDERED DRIVING TO THE PARK AND TRADING OUT CARS, but a glance at the clock on the dashboard convinced him he had no time to waste. He drove to the synagogue, doing his best to calm his mind so that he would be able to help others. He ran through a few breathing techniques and slowly brought his emotions under control.

It was a good thing. When he pulled into the parking lot, there were already more than a dozen cars there and Marie was calling his cell. “I'm here. I'll be inside in three minutes,” he said, then hung up before she could respond.

Inside the office he found Paul questioning Marie about the Schullers. Jeremiah gave him a brief nod before walking into his office. He sat down in his chair, took a deep breath, and prepared for the onslaught. There was a soft knock on his door after a minute, and Jeremiah looked up to see Olivia Schuller standing there.